We needed five items from the grocery store; mayo, ranch dressing, lunch meat and tortilla chips. Do not think we have weird tastes in food. The only ones of those to be combined are the mayo and lunch meat, and there will be bread involved. I thought to myself. This will take little time, I should go do this now.
I wisked the kids out of the car and plopped them in the grocery cart. As I set the baby down, I noticed that strange odor coming from her rear. Oh Poop!
The first stop was a swing by the deli and fruit section. "Bananas!" Cora exclaimed. I thought about Nyobi and her recent issues with lactose, and grabbed a big bundle. There are no milk products in Bananas and they make excellent ice cream substitutes. As I set them in the cart, the Nuky came out and was discarded into the watermelon bin. As Nyobi began to whine because I refused to give her bananas immediately, I dug down through the giant green orbs trying to follow the sounds of pacifier plinko with my arm.
Luck was with me. I retrieved the Nuky, cleaned it, and tried to give it to the whiny smelly girl. She wanted nothing to do with plastic though. She wanted a banana, a diaper change and probably a nap, in that particular order. This is not a problem I told myself, soothing her with hands and soft voice. I only needed a couple things.
Twenty minutes later I emerged. Nyobi cried the entire time we shopped. I had three extra items and a giant pack of bananas. I went through check out twice because in my efforts to sooth the crabby stinky one, I forgot to purchase the Mayo. The only person who seemed satisfied was Cora, who was happily snacking on fish crackers, and loved being instructed that she did not have to share.
Next time I have a five item grocery trip, I think I will go in the evening, without children. Oh wait. I forgot to buy the Ice.
Monday, June 15, 2009
What I mean is, Cora demonstrated to me today that she acknowledges her power to make personal changes. Today she wanted short hair. She cut it. I should be grateful she did not decide to trim her sisters pitiful locks. I think I can still make a handy pony tail. She is thrilled with the results.
Actually she did a pretty good job of cutting it too. As the photo illustrates, she never got around to her left side, but the stuff she did is fairly even, considering the body contortion of the last snip I walked in on. The scissors are gone though. Mom might have broken them in a fit of pique at her discovery. Why couldn't she hack up that awful fluffy pink skirt that she was wearing at the time?
I asked her why she decided to cut her hair. She told me she wanted short hair "like Mommies." Flattery tends to soften ones anger, that and the realization that a crying cringing three year old will NOT cooperate as you finish the task they started. As I also had the added assistance of the one year old trying to climb on my lap or eat the hair clippings, I took a deep breath before I began to cut (with my scissors, not hers).
Why am I secretly more upset over her new hairdo than anyone else? I guess I loved the long hair princess look more than my independent girl. We'll go to the barber and have someone else finish the damage control tomorrow.